“We have some hard questions to discuss, my love. Things I did not and do not want to talk about. But we must.” She took a deep breath and then quickly, like tearing a bandage from a wound, told him of the midwife’s demands that they make decisions.

He recoiled from her, his face full of horror. Anger swiftly replaced the horror. “How can she speak of such things to you? How dare she?”

“Reyn!” The anger in his eyes was both reassuring and frightening. “She has to ask these questions. With my other pregnancies, well, they did not last long, did they? I think she knew they would come to nothing. But now we have felt the child move, and with each passing day we are closer to a birth. And these are the decisions that all parents in the Rain Wilds or Bingtown must face. Harsh as they seem, they are decisions that have been faced by generations of Rain Wild folk. So.” Malta took a steady breath. “What should I tell her?”

Reyn was breathing as hard as if he faced a fight. “Tell her? Tell her that I care nothing for custom or decorum! Tell her that I will be by your bedside for every moment, and that the instant our child is born, he will be safe in my arms. Should Sa take his life from us, then I will mourn. But if anyone else threatens him, in any way, I will kill them. That is what you can tell her. No. That is what I will tell the meddling old hag!”

He stood up abruptly and paced a quick turn around the small cabin before coming to a standstill, staring bleakly out the window at the passing trees. “Did you doubt that I would protect our child?” he asked her quietly. There was hurt in his eyes when he turned to her. “Or is this . . .” He hesitated. “Is this not what you want? If our child is born changed, do you wish to, to set him aside? To . . .” His words tapered away to silence.